


But It Can't Say the Million Things I Wanna Say

by samajama



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Fluff, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samajama/pseuds/samajama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson is a photographer for popstar, Harry Styles.  They're just flirty friends.  Or something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But It Can't Say the Million Things I Wanna Say

**Author's Note:**

> This is fiction and I am not associated with One Direction or their affiliates.
> 
> The title is from Ryan Cabrera's "Photo" (A photo can say a thousand things/But it can't say the million things I wanna say). If you don't know how Claddagh rings work, you might want to read [this](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claddagh_ring#Symbolism).
> 
> The idea for this came from [this post](http://stylesblowjobs.tumblr.com/post/40544943767) and the tags I left on it.

Paul had hired Louis to take some promotional shots for Harry's new single.

"Louis." He held out his hand. "Tomlinson."

The younger boy shook it. "Harry Styles."

The two got on right from the start and as soon as Louis left, Harry begged Paul to hire him for all his photoshoots. _Hire him again or I'll quit...or cry._ Paul couldn't afford to lose Harry and a client and he really, _really_ didn't want to see him cry, so he saw no harm in hiring Louis.

* * * * *

That had been six months ago. Since then, the boys have grown even closer and become quite good friends.

"Hey, Lou," Harry mumbles, walking into the studio, his curls bouncing happily in stark contrast to his current mood.

"What's wrong?"

He shakes out his hair and throws his blazer on chair. "Nothing. Just, you know, gloomy over the rain."

Louis frowns. "Harry, we live in London. It always rains."

"Fine," he sighs. "They rejected my proposal to come out. Again."

Louis's frown deepens, putting a crease in his brow. He can't understand how Harry can be so nonchalant about something that could affect his entire life. _Although_ , he thinks, _if this happened to me as frequently as it did to Harry, I'd get used to it, too_.

* * * * *

The thing was, Harry never meant to come out to Louis. During one of their earliest shoots, Louis made a snide comment about all of the twelve-year-old girls who would be begging to hear Harry hitting his high notes after they saw his newest (shirtless) photos.

"Oh, I know _quite a few_ boys who'll be begging to hear them too," Harry has said.

Louis wasn't sure if Harry has been joking or not when Harry frantically interrupted, "Fuck! Shit! You can't tell Paul I told you. Or, I dunno, maybe we can, but you _can't_ tell anyone else. You can't, you have to promise, Louis, please."

"Tell anyone what?"

"That... I'm gay."

* * * * *

"Again?" Louis asks.

Harry nods solemnly. "It's fine. I mean, I didn't expect them to change their minds or anything. It's just... You know..."

Oh boy, did Louis know. Louis knows all about the struggles of having to come out. Of course, Louis never had to worry about coming out while being an internationally-known popstar, so there's that.

He opens his arms for a hug and Harry steps into them, burying his face briefly into the older boy's shoulder. They break the hug before long and with a mischievous grin, Louis says, "You can pick the first outfit," gesturing toward the rack of clothes on the other side of the small room.

This is their favorite game to play. They deliberately make Harry change from outfit to outfit in the most impractical way possible. Harry and Louis aren't really able to hang out much aside from these shoots, so they try to make them last as long as possible. It has started as a joke: Louis was teasing Harry that he just wanted to spend more time with him. Now, it's just what they do.

Harry slips off his shoes, peels off his shirt and black skinny jeans, and pads over to the clothing rack in just his pants. Louis tries to look away as he bends over to pick up his new pair of loafers. There's no denying it, Louis thinks Harry's incredibly fit, but that doesn't mean he has to ogle him.

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, who knows) for Louis, Harry enjoys the attention and so comments, "Enjoying the view?"

Louis laughs. "Fat chance."

"Sorry we can't all have perfectly sculpted arses like yours, Lou."

Louis just rolls his eyes and says, "Just put on some clothes, will you?"

Harry pulls on a tight pair of black trousers. He grabs a plain white t-shirt and a grey tweed blazer and chucks them at Louis. The older boy laughs, rolling his eyes again. Harry plops in the chair with his street clothes, his abs tightening and stretching his smooth skin as he crosses his legs to slide on the pair of black loafers.

"You just couldn't keep some clothes on for a minute, could you Hazza?"

He winks. "Never around you." He stands up, shoes now tied, and pecks Louis's cheek, grabbing the rest of his clothes. "Thanks, mate." He finishes dressing and the boys walk over to the backdrop. "So what's the set for this one?" He gestures to his clothes.

"That bench," Louis says pointing. "And the fake tree." He pauses. "I dunno, pretend you brought a date to the park or something."

Harry laughs and walks over to help Louis move the props. "Where do you want me first?"

"Oh, I'll have you everywhere, love, but first I want you laid out on the bench." Harry swallows. Louis throws a wink at him. This is the other game they like to play. Flirting (and sometimes just making blatant suggestions) until the other breaks.

Harry lies on the bench and throws his head back, shaking out his curls. Louis snaps a few frames until Harry interrupts, "Make sure you get my good side, dahling," mimicking a posh American accent.

Louis pulls out his best Jack Dawson impersonation, "I'll draw you like one of my French girls."

Harry laughs so hard, he sits up, eyes closed and crinkling. His smile is so wide, Louis's sure he can see his molars. He quickly snaps shots of this moment, too precious to be passed by. 

Once Harry can breathe again, he stands. "As if _you'd_ have any French girls." He sticks out his tongue and then abruptly, holds his hands out.

"What?"

Harry requests, "Give me your camera," holding his hands out farther.

"What? No! Why?"

"Because," he says softly, "you look so happy right now."

"You'll scratch the lens."

"Lou."

"Or waste my film!"

"Lou, you use digital."

"Or drop it!"

" _Louis_."

He sighs, defeated. "Fine." He hands the camera over, his face quickly shifting to a smile as he sees Harry placing the strap immediately around his neck and checking the F-stop.

"Learned something after all this time, have you?"

"Hard not to, Lou. It's beautiful to watch you work. You can really tell you love it. Can't really help but _to_ notice, you know?" _No_ , Louis thinks. _I don't know._ Louis just shrugs. "Smile for me, Lou."

Louis ignores him and gives his best model pout. "You look cute when you do that."

Louis harrumphs. "I am not _cute_."

"Why not? I like cute."

"Well," Louis pauses for a second, then quips back, "maybe I'll have to make an exception then."

"So generous, you are. Come on now. I want a _real_ smile." Harry closes the space between them and cups Louis's chin, tilting it so that he's looking him straight in the eyes. "C'mon, be happy."

Now, Louis smiles his real smile. His _Louis_ smile. The one that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, the sliver of his eyes that are left peeking out bluer than usual. His mouth is so wide it looks like his face hurts, all his teeth showing.

Harry snaps a few pictures before returning the camera to Louis. "Thanks." Louis swallows. "Now, get your skinny arse back on the set."

* * * * *

Harry pulls of a Ramones shirt only for it to be replaced with a Stones one. He carelessly slips on the new shirt and begins walking back to the small set, now completely bare except for a small wooden stool.

"Hold on a second."

"Wuzzat?" Instead of replying, Louis waves Harry closer and grabs for his sleeves. He rolls each one a few times before deeming, "Perfect."

Harry shakes his head sheepishly. "Nah."

"You're underestimating yourself again, Styles," he sing-songs. The younger boy flushes slightly. Louis smiles. "Gotcha. C'mon and let's finish this so we can gossip about Tom before he comes to collect you."

* * * * *

"No!"

"I swear!"

Louis shakes his head. "I don't believe you."

"You'll see when he gets here."

"Are you two talking about me again?" Tom asks as he enters the studio.

"Of course not! We were talking about your daughter, who can apparently _walk_ now!" Louis says scandalized.

Tom laughs, "She certainly can," and steps aside to reveal Lux who has been walking behind him.

"Llllllluh!" she shouts, beaming at Louis.

"Well hello there, sweetheart!" 

She darts away from her father and straight into Louis's eager arms. He lifts her up and twirls her around. "Luh," she says again, patting his face with her small, chubby fingers.

"One day you'll say my name and finally succeed in stealing my heart." He pauses before continuing in a stage whisper, "More than you already have, that is. You're the only girl for me."

"Not saying much, is it there, mate?" Tom laughs.

"Oi!" Harry laughs as well as he walks over to the pair, holding his arms out for the girl. "Would you give me a chance to cuddle her properly? Just because you're her _godfather_ , Styles. Honestly," he huffs. "I barely get to see this little muffin."

Louis pointedly ignores Harry's eye rolls and exaggerating pouting as he snuggles the girl in his arms.

After a moment, Lux mumbles, "Ha" to Louis and tugs on his collar.

"Alright, fine, little girl. Go give Uncle Harry a cuddle as well."

"Ha!" Lux exclaims as Harry takes her in his arms.

"Hello there. I've missed you!"

Tom snorts. "How could you possibly miss her? You probably see her as much as I do, stealing her away whenever you've got a day off."

"Not _every_ time," Harry defends lamely.

"Pretty much."

"Wait, wait, hang on a minute here," Louis interrupts. "Am I hearing that every time we've hung out on one of your days off, I could be hanging out with this little cutie instead of you? And yet you never bring her along? Is that right, Harold?"

"I- I thought you wouldn't want to babysit?"

Louis scoffs. "You, Harry, are such an... I-D-I-O-T."

Harry whispers something into Lux's ear and they both turn to him, pouting and sticking their bottom lips out.

"Fine, fine. You're both lovely."

Harry smiles. "Speaking of days off, though, I'm free tomorrow?" he offers.

"Will Lux be there?"

"Yeah! Totally, we can do that!"

Louis snorts. "Pathetic. I actually need to work on some still lifes tomorrow, though."

"And my daughter is spending the day with me and Lou."

"Oh, right. Yeah, of course."

Louis scratches the back of his neck. "I mean, you can come along if you want. If you don't mind watching me taking pictures?"

"Yeah, Lou, 'cause I _never_ see you doing that."

Louis pointlessly looks over at his camera. "Ah. Yeah." He pauses. "Um, so, right. I'm taking the photos at my flat, so you could just..."

"Brilliant," he says. And then to Tom, "Think you or Paul could get me over there?"

"I think that can be arranged."

"Alright then," Louis says. "See you tomorrow around noon?"

"Sounds perfect."

* * * * *

The buzzer to Louis's flat goes off and he jumps, cursing as he spills his tea on his hand and down the front of his shirt. He buzzes Harry up and unlocks the front door before he goes to change his shirt.

He pulls off the tea-soaked one, throwing it on his bedroom floor and walking over to his closet. He hears a knock at the door and shouts, "It's open!"

The door creaks and Harry calls out, "Lou?"

"In my bedroom; lock the door, would you?"

He clicks the lock and walks to the open door past the kitchen. Harry lets out a low whistle. "Should've known better. Inviting me over for _'still lifes,'_ " he scoffs, coming up to Louis and hugging him from behind, hooking his chin over his shoulder.

"Prick." Louis laughs. "I spilled my tea down my shirt when you buzzed up."

"Jumpy, are we?"

"Of course. 'Was worried that strange men were going to come accost me in my bedroom."

Harry offers, "Lucky for you I'm only one strange man, then." He grabs a maroon button down and hands it to Louis. "Wear this one."

"Thanks," he says, pulling on the dry shirt. "Come on. The stuff's in my studio. Louis leads Harry out of the bedroom and says, "Okay, so quick tour. I still can't believe this is the first time you've been here. But, uh, so you came in through the living room, the bathroom slash sometimes dark room is through here, and finally over here, we have my second favorite room of the flat: my studio."

"What's your fa-" he stops in awe of the small room. The walls are painted white, but are almost completely covered. At least a dozen cameras, hundreds of photos, and what seems like endless shelves of knick-knacks. "Wow." Louis hums his agreement. "So what are you taking these photos for?"

"Oh! My friend Zayn, I'm sure I've mentioned him? Well, he's a model and so he and a few of his friends are putting together a gallery of sorts. Kind of like a portfolio, yeah? Except it's just a gallery of their headshots and things, and they're inviting a bunch of model scouts to look at them. It's also doubling as a showing for me since I took all of their pictures."

"That's- Wow, Lou. That's fantastic."

"Well, yeah, I mean I need something to do while I'm not busy taking _your_ picture." He winks.

"Not that that isn't great, because it is, but it still doesn't explain the still lifes?"

"Ah, yes. Well, Zayn thought it might get a little creepy to have so many pictures of them staring at the guests, so these are to go in between to calm things down a little."

"Well, get on with it, yeah?"

"Where shall I start, then, Curly?"

Harry picks up a small bronze Buddha. "How about him?" Louis reaches out and Harry goes to hand off the trinket.

"No, no. You hold him."

"Thought this was a still life?"

He shrugs. "Eh, looks better in your hands." Lou reaches out again and adjusts Harry's hands slightly so that he's cupping the statuette instead of pinching it between his fingers. Louis zooms in on the Buddha, the hands only  
a blurry background. 

He frowns and zooms his lens out a bit. He re-frames the photo around Harry's hands. Louis takes a few more shots like that and smiles. "Okay, so what's next?" He glances to one of the nearby shelves. He grabs an old Claddagh ring he'd once found abandoned in a Lost and Found.

He places the ring on a small pillow on the table and requests, "Can you take that and put it on? Slowly? I want to do a series of shots." Harry nods and Louis takes a small step back and starts snapping.

The younger boy reaches out, slowly and carefully, and picks it up with two fingers. Harry holds it for a moment, twisting it before sliding it onto the ring finger of his right hand. Louis focuses in and sighs in understanding now. _So that's why he was fussing with it_ , he thinks.

Harry has turned the ring so that the small heart is pointing towards his own. Louis lowers his camera and sets it on the table. Harry's brow furrows. "What's wrong, Lou? Did I do it too fast? We can do it again." He lifts his mouth in a half-smile, hoping his double entendre might make Louis laugh.

He complies with a puff of laughter and shakes his head. "Nah, it's fine," he says unconvincingly.

Harry steps forward. "No, it's not. What's wrong? You were fine a minute ago."

"I- The ring..." 

He immediately rips it off and drops it on the table. "Okay, ring's gone."

"No, it's not the _ring_ itself, I just... It's stupid."

"I- Oh. You saw how I was wearing it?" Louis nods. "And you know what that means?"

Louis nods again. "Well, yeah."

"Ask me."

"What? Harry, no, I don't care who- It's not any of my business."

Harry lets out an exasperated sigh. "Louis, just ask me."

Defeated, Louis asks, "Tell me, dear Harold, what lucky man has stolen your heart."

"Well, I think he's kind, even though he's a complete cynic to most everyone else. He loves his family and his job and cares about both more than himself. He's a tease, so that's...well, that is was it is." He laughs. "He's _well_ fit, of course. Fantastic bum. He-"

"Okay, Harry. I get it."

"No, hold on. Let me finish. Most importantly, he's not perfect, but I think he's perfect for me. He's... God, Louis, you- _you_ are perfect for me."

"I'm." Louis blinks. "What?"

"It's you, Lou. It's been you. Ever since you strutted into that studio six months ago in your tight red trousers and your stupid braces that should make you look like a grandpa. Instead they just make me want to grab them and pull you on top of me and never, ever move ever again. Ever."

Louis stutters, "But you- Me?"

Harry just nods and steps closer again. "Lou?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you let me kiss you?"

"I'll be very cross if you _don't_ kiss me." Harry chuckles softly and smiles into their first kiss.

It's barely a brush of lips before Harry pulls away. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He grabs Louis's camera. "i just want to document the happiest moment of my life.

"Cheesy," he says, but his smile betrays him. Louis beams as Harry takes the picture. 

They kiss again, surer this time. Maybe they could do this. And maybe they'll fall in love. And it all started with a picture.


End file.
